Latest News

Difficult conversations

Difficult conversations

Wed., Aug. 29, 2012–Our Board of Deacons spent a lovely evening together last night around the dinner table and then on sofa and chairs in the living room.  We try to “retreat”–or “advance,” as I like to think of it–at least once a year, usually in the summer.  It gives us a chance to be together in a non-“meeting” setting and to take a little more time to go deeper into a topic or concern that we never seem to have time for during our regular meetings.

We had agreed that last night we would talk about “difficult conversations”–how to be clear about our boundaries of what we could and couldn’t do, what to do when emotions might be high, how to deal with difficult issues, like death, or family dynamics.  Sitting around the living room, we could speak and listen to one another with a softness and openness that a more formal setting would have made more difficult.

In some ways, we modeled a difficult conversation, for as we shared how we had each been at a loss or felt uncomfortable in conversations, we held each other in the Light and Love of God, listened, and gently asked questions or suggested alternative ways to steer the conversation.  We agreed that the questions we asked were more important than any answers we might give.  For example, while hearing and acknowledging someone’s complaints or pain, at a certain point it might be helpful to open the possibility of looking at something that’s going right, at some gift or strength they have, at some reason for hope.  Acknowledge the pain AND lift up the possibility.  When we focus on or give attention to the positive and the hopeful, it actually gives life and energy to that, instead of simply getting sucked into the negative energy of what is not going well.

If we anticipate a difficult conversation, it’s important to take the time ahead of time to ground ourselves in the truth of who we are–beloved of God, with strengths and worth that will be untouched by whatever the other may say, held in the depth and density and expanse of Love.  It’s also important to remember that the other is beloved of God, worthy of compassion and dignity and respect.  If we find ourselves unexpectedly in the midst of a difficult conversation, remembering to breathe deeply and allowing silence may help us through.  We agreed that “I don’t know what I think about that,” or “I don’t know what to say about that right now” are much better responses than just babbling on without thinking.

When at all possible, our conversations should include some affirmation of the other, some gift or benefit that we find in them, as all too often conversations can degenerate into fault-finding and criticism.  We agreed that we would like to intentionally create an atmosphere of benefit-finding, rather than fault-finding, in our church, in the words used in Positive Psychology.

While at times difficult, our conversation drew us closer together – “in the Spirit’s tether,” as the hymn says.  It was another experience of the Word made flesh among us.
"Is it worth it?" --Ephesians 6:10-20, John 6: 56-69-- Aug. 26, 2012

"Is it worth it?" --Ephesians 6:10-20, John 6: 56-69-- Aug. 26, 2012

 

Michael Warren, a consultant in youth ministry, describes beautifully the assumption that many young people make about what it takes to be a Christian, but I invite you to listen carefully and see if you don’t think he describes what many–if not most–people who are no longer "young" also believe–

Many of the young people I meet

[he writes] believe religion, particularly Christianity, is an area of life requiring no special skills. Religion, they think, refers to an optional interior attitude. It consists of having nice, loving thoughts about God. The idea that a religion requires a discrete set of practices that forges a distinct way of being in the world–that religious practices, like an athlete’s training, are more geared to developing abilities than a set of thoughts–is something many have never considered. If there is a practice to religion, they think, it consists of a single activity–an activity they reject: attending religious services. In their equation, if you love God, God knows of your love and you don’t have to be part of a religious assembly to show that love. If you do attend church but don’t love God, you’re a hypocrite. So the best way to avoid hypocrisy is to avoid going to church. (Warren, "Christian Skill Set," The Christian Century, Sept. 7, 2004, p. 25)

See what I mean? Lots of people, especially in the West, think the same way–that religion, in particular Christianity, is primarily an interior attitude. It’s about thoughts and "beliefs," rather than actions or skills. Our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters may add taking communion or going to confession or saying the rosary to the set of practices, but even then, my guess is those practices are wrapped up in attending religious services and less to do with developing skills which forge a distinct way of being in the world. In fact, we’re a little leery of people who appear "too religious"–who do things–or won’t do things–in their daily life that may set them apart from others. We’d like everyone to "fit in" and not make anyone too uncomfortable.

"If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable," wrote C.S. Lewis, "I certainly don’t recommend Christianity." Jesus certainly didn’t seem to go out of his way to make people feel comfortable. This long discourse in the 6th chapter of John–which may have been at least as much John’s understanding of what Jesus said than what Jesus said–is a case in point. "For my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them." Really, Jesus? No wonder the early Christians were accused of cannibalism!

"What was Jesus thinking?" as one pastor asks. He has just fed over 5000 people with a few barley loaves and a couple of fish, and they are so excited they’d follow him anywhere. Instead of meeting them right where they are, pointing out the lilies in the field maybe, like Jesus does in Luke’s gospel, or continuing to nourish them with food that will sustain them and let them see that this teacher is worth following, maybe with a few beatitudes like Jesus does in Matthew’s gospel, here in John he launches into this long discourse about being the Bread from heaven and about their having to eat his flesh and drink his blood.

"This teaching is difficult," they say in masterful understatement. "Who can accept it?" "Does this teaching offend you?" Jesus asks his disciples. "Uh, yeah. It’s a little creepy." "Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him." "Honestly," my pastor friend writes, "it’s a wonder Jesus had any followers left. Maybe the real miracle in the sixth chapter of John wasn’t that 5000 people were fed at the beginning but that a dozen were still left at the end." (Wallace W. Bubar, The Christian Century, 8/22/12, p. 20)

"This teaching is difficult." "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them." These words–this image–force an in-your-face confrontation with the incarnation. This is not about thinking nice thoughts about God. This is not a strictly internal thought process. This is about the very life blood that flows through our veins that results in a new way–a distinct way-- of being in the world. If you think that’s comfortable and safe, remember the image that Paul–or probably someone writing in the same spirit–used in his letter to the Ephesians–

Finally,

[he wrote] be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

Now this may be a little more militaristic and a little more supernatural than we’re comfortable with. But the image of armor would certainly have had currency in Ephesus, with Roman soldiers in armor all around. And while we may not like to think of them in terms of "cosmic powers of the present darkness, or spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places," we do know that there are forces at work beyond any individual or even collective human power–forces of greed or fear, forces of disease or prejudice, economic forces, geo-political forces. Paul refers to them as the "powers and principalities," and it’s as good a description as any.

When we are up against cancer, or heart disease, or addiction, or any other disease or condition not readily eliminated by a pill or tonic, it can feel like we are engaged in a battle. When no matter how hard we try, no matter how many resumes we hand out or job fairs we attend, and we still cannot get a job, we can feel as though we are up against the powers and principalities. When we see pictures of hungry children, or craters and smoldering vehicles left by bombs or other explosive devises, when we watch glaciers melting and polar bears stranded on shrinking ice floes, when wild fires rage and devour homes and forests and everything else in their paths, or rain and wind batter coastlines and even river lines, we can believe in powers and principalities over which we have no control. Heck, there are quieter days when it can feel like we’re up against forces that simply are too strong for us–in frustration with our children or elderly parents, when our bodies just won’t behave or work the way we wish they would, when the bills just keep coming and the balance in the checkbook keeps going down, when we find it hard to find energy or meaning in life. "Beloved, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of God’s power...Put on the whole armor of God..."

The armor described, except for the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of the Lord, is all defensive–the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness (or right relationship with God), shoes to help us preach the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation. None of those can take on any real meaning if they’re just abstract, interior thoughts. When you’re up against powers and principalities, thoughts will too easily disappear. It has to be in your blood, so to speak, in your muscles. The rhythms of worship and prayer, living eucharistically–that is, giving of yourself and recognizing that your life depends on others, the practice of fasting–either from food or other forms of consuming–all hone our skills and abilities to act differently in the world. Doing the work to sort through all the layers of limitations, fears, and constructed self-images that we’ve layered on and around our true, inner core takes time and effort. "The whole armor of God is a matter of worship, ethics, character, prayer and lifestyle," writes Bruce Epperly, which then become "resources to creatively respond to–and confront–the present darkness...Our primary protection in a world of threat is prayerful God-awareness and constant alert, being spiritually centered." (The Adventurous Lectionary, 8/21/12)

"Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them," Jesus said. There is real intimacy in this kind of relationship that is able to remain with us, even in and through death, both our final death and the little deaths that we experience everyday, in the loss of a relationship, even in the letting go of a child who moves on to the next stage in life–whether that’s a new school or college or marriage or the service–, or the little deaths we might experience in illness or incapacity, in giving up a home, in the loss of the job. "Those who take in my life [which is what blood represented] abide in me and I in them."

And Jesus knew that the giving of his blood and flesh would not only come through the meal that we celebrate in communion but also, especially, in his death. The way to "eternal life," which is both now and in the days to come, is through death, through the giving of oneself, in the giving up of the ego, or one’s selfish desires, including the desire to be in control. "This is a difficult teaching," they said. You bet.

When some of his disciples left and no longer went around with him, Jesus did not try to make them stay. He knew the way was difficult, and that no one could be forced to follow. "Among you there are some who do not believe." I know that this is not what you expected the way of truth or salvation to be. This is not what you wanted in a messiah. It is when those in whom we place such hope–whether as messiah or political candidate–when they do not live up to what we thought they were going to do, that we feel betrayed. Judas couldn’t believe Jesus was who he said he was–the Son of Humanity–because Jesus was determined to go through death, not around it, and so Judas felt betrayed. Surely the messiah doesn’t have to die. Others simply left. It’s not clear whether Jesus felt betrayed here. One commentator writes, "Jesus is not the victim of misguided hopes, who at the end dies disillusioned because good does not triumph over evil. All along, with eyes wide open to the presence of unbelief and destruction, he follows the plans given him by [God]." (Texts for Preaching, Year B, p. 483)

Jesus asked the twelve remaining, "Do you also wish to go away?" Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life." You have the words of eternal life–eternal life, right here and now. "Could these words [of eternal life] be the vibrations of divine creativity," asks Bruce Epperly, vibrations from "the big bang and the evolution of the universe? Could these words be life-changing affirmations whose repetition creates the songlines of our lives, opening us to hope and energy despite life’s challenges?" (Op cit.) Could these words be the whole parable that Jesus’ life told and continues to tell–of Divine Love living in human flesh, healing, teaching, connecting us, suffering, dying, and rising into new life?

To whom can we go other than this One, this Way, which, deep down, if we truly are honest with ourselves, ring true? Have we found such truth, such strength, such hope, such peace in any other way? In the way of self-centeredness, the way of money or power or stuff or success? To whom can we go in the midst of cancer or loss or heartbreak or discouragement? "Lord, you have the words of eternal life. To whom can we go?"

There are practices, there are skills we can acquire to help us live this way, centered and grounded in the love of God–practices of gratitude and forgiveness, practices of prayer and meditation, practices of taking care of our own and others’ bodies, practices of caring for the earth and her creatures, practices of worship and study and eucharist and healing. But all these practices–all these efforts–really just make us more susceptible to grace. "Be strong in the Lord" might more accurately be translated, "be made strong"–it is God who gives the strength. It is the Source of Life who courses through our veins and limbs that keeps us in divine intimacy. It is ultimately the mystery of Love that transforms bread and wine, that transforms our lives, that confounds our sensibilities and our logic, that even offends us at times. But it is Love that walks beside us and within us and before us, so that even in the present darkness, we may find the way. May these words be strength, and hope, and courage for us for the living of these days. Amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark
Transitions

Transitions

Wed., Aug. 22, 2012 – Every three years the lectionary, or cycle of Scripture readings, comes around to Ephesians 6:10-20 on the last Sunday in August. The heading of this section in many Bibles is, "The Whole Armor of God," for Paul, or whoever wrote the Letter to the Ephesians, talks about "putting on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil."

...Stand, therefore, [he writes] and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

 

It sounds so heavy here at the end of summer! Not to mention hot and stifling if you have the image of medieval armor in mind. I’m looking for something a little lighter, a little more gentle, as I reluctantly let go of summer and turn September’s calendar page over. Having just spent all last week away for my Certificate in Positive Psychology course, I’m still catching up on stacks of mail and e-mails.

But "Paul" is right to give us this pep talk. After all, what a luxury it is to have vacation at all, when I think of all those who live everyday hand to mouth, juggling several jobs, never seeming to be able to make ends meet. How grateful I am for this time of rest and renewal! How grateful I am to have work that is meaningful and (mostly!) enjoyable to get back to!

And then there’s the "armor" Paul is urging us to put on–truth and righteousness (or right relationship with God), readiness to preach the gospel of peace, faith, salvation (being "saved" from aimlessness and separation from God), and the Spirit. What a gift to be able to "put on" these things, to be offered these things to accompany us on the journey. And then there’s that first sentence in this whole section, that’s not to be forgotten–"Finally, [or firstly], be strong in the Lord and in the strength of God’s power." It’s not our effort or power–it’s God’s working through us.

So, don’t just "put on" but "open up to...," "empty out to..." the power and strength of God. "I can do all things through the One who loves us." Off we go!
"Positive Psychology–So Far..."-- Proverbs 9:1-6, Philippians 4:4-9--
Aug. 19, 2012

"Positive Psychology–So Far..."-- Proverbs 9:1-6, Philippians 4:4-9-- Aug. 19, 2012

My Certificate in Positive Psychology course began online a month ago, and this past week I completed the first of two 5-day residential immersion at the Kripalu Center in Lenox, MA. "Immersion" is a good word for it, as we spent over 6 hours a day in class, drinking in as much wisdom and information as possible, though it often felt like trying to drink from a fire hydrant. It was very difficult to turn my brain off at night, besides the fact that I was in a dorm room with 21 other women, so I would have to say that sleeping wasn’t the highlight of the week!

At any rate, I am still dripping from the water, finding puddles in my shoes when I walk, hearing the water sloshing in my ears when I turn my head; so I’ll try to give you just a few sips for now, with no promises about how organized or coherent this sounds.

"Wisdom has built her house," we read in the book of Proverbs. "She has hewn her seven pillar. She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table. She has sent out her servant girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, ‘You that are simple, turn in here!’ To those without sense she says, ‘Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight."

The Wisdom tradition runs through all of the great world religions, wisdom about how to live, gleaned from what works, what seems to help people successfully make their way through life with its inevitable times of difficulty and ease. Here in the book of Proverbs, Wisdom is personified as female–Sophia–a take-no-prisoners–don’t-be-stupid kind of woman. She is not to be messed with. Thus, the hewing of pillars, the slaughtering of animals, the mixing of the wine and setting of the table, the piercing call from the highest places in town–"Hey, you! Don’t be fools! Come have dinner with me! Give up your foolish ways. Learn to live wisely."

Within the Christian tradition, Jesus is seen as the incarnation of Sophia, a wonderful infusion of the feminine into the masculine, the Word–God’s Word of Wisdom–become flesh. And doesn’t Jesus sound a bit like Sophia in Matthew 11, as Peterson paraphrases it– "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life...Walk with me and work with me–watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly." (The Message, Mt. 11:28-30)

The Wisdom traditions uncover the universal in the particular, the sacred in the flesh. Positive Psychology both learns from and informs these religious traditions. In 1998, Martin Seligman & colleagues, at the University of Pennsylvania, wrote that before World War II, the field of American psychology had 3 objectives: 1. Cure mental illness, 2. Make relatively untroubled people happier, and 3. Study genius and high talent. After World War II, the first objective–to cure mental illness–was the only one getting funding or research. As noble and compelling as that objective is–making the troubled less miserable–that still involves only somewhere around 30% of the population. Seligman urged his colleagues in the field to remember the other 2 objectives–to make relatively untroubled people happier and to study genius and high talent. Thus, the field of Positive Psychology, which of course built on the work of others who had come before, came into new life, standing alongside and enhancing other forms of psychology.

So, how do we become happier? What is happiness, as defined in Positive Psychology? Seligman writes that it is pleasure, or positive emotions, plus engagement, plus meaning. (Seligman, Parks, & Steen, [2004] Balanced Psychology and a Full Life. The Royal Society, 1379-81). We all know plenty of people–much of western culture, in fact–who pursue happiness through pleasure. They seek that pleasure through money, power, possessions, celebrity, food, drink, that sort of thing, all of which can make you happy–for a while, but it does not last. Engagement adds intention, mindfulness, a sense of being present, and meaning can give us connection to something greater than ourselves, a sense of purpose. All three, these positive psychologists say, lead to a "full life." (Ibid.)

"I came that you might have life," Jesus said, "and that abundantly." "The glory of God is the human being fully alive," Irenaeus said back in the 4th c. CE. "Fully alive." Positive emotions and negative emotions, as we talked about last week. "Be angry," as Paul said, "but do not sin–do not let it separate you from God or one another." Anger, grief, discouragement, jealousy, all the range of what we might call "negative emotions" are part of the human experience. As I mentioned last week, and as our teacher Tal Ben-Shahar says, the only people who don’t experience these are the psychopaths and the dead. Emotions are not right or wrong, they just are; they are a-moral. It’s what we do with them, our behavior, that can be moral or immoral. The human being fully alive experiences the full range of emotions, just like Jesus did, and in fact research shows that allowing ourselves to experience negative emotions rather than denying or suppressing them actually helps us to fully experience the more positive emotions. They all come through the same pipeline, so to speak.

So positive psychology focuses on what contributes to our well-being, psychologically, physically, even spiritually, and does that through evidence-based research. For example, instead of asking, Why do some kids in this inner city school fail, Popsitive Psychology asked, What is it about those students who, despite all the challenges and obstacles before them, nevertheless thrive and become successful? How can we learn what works, what makes people resilient? Another study compared the ratio of the number of positive experiences to the number of negative experiences the participants had in a period of time–the "positivity ratio." Those who had less than 3 positive experiences for every one negative experience perceived themselves as doing "ok.. But 3 to 1 seemed to be the tipping point. Anything more than 3:1–even 3.1 or .2-- had a significant impact not only on how well people felt about their experiences, but also how successful they were in meeting goals, and in levels of their immune systems.

And the thing is, it doesn’t take all that much to improve that ratio of 3 to one, either by reducing the number of negative experiences–maybe by avoiding negative or critical people, taking a break from depressing news media (probably a real challenge for us in this upcoming election season), that sort of thing–or increasing the number of positive experiences, like writing down 5 things for which you’re grateful every night, listening to music, dancing, spending more time with a good friend or loved one, that sort of thing. After 3 to 1, the level of well-being continues to rise–until you reach 11:1, when you start to get manic, losing touch with reality.

"Beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things," Paul wrote in the letter to the Philippians. What we focus on literally helps to create our reality, and when we appreciate the good, the good appreciates (just like stocks used to do).

 

Again, we do not deny or overlook suffering or negative experiences. But by focusing on the good, starting with the good in ourselves, we are able to find the strength and context for dealing with suffering–our own and others’.

Positive psychology is based in scientific research. The Wisdom traditions of the world’s religions are based in research in life--observing life and what works. But knowledge is not enough. "I know the good but I do not do it," Paul moaned in his letter to the Romans. Information is not enough to change behavior, if we’re looking for transformation. Our Second Congregational Church t-shirts claim, "Changing lives since 1865." I have no doubt that is true, but unless we not only "believe" in God or in Christ, but "believe into," as we talked about last week, unless we connect our lives into a new way living, unless we "put on Christ," take on the Christ consciousness, we will not experience transformation. Religion has known this–that knowledge and information alone are not enough--, and so ritual-- habits-- is an important part of having our lives transformed. "We first make our habits," wrote the British poet John Dryden, "and then our habits make us."

Our tradition has given us rituals–the ritual of coming together each week, to be reminded of who we are and Whose we are; the ritual of prayer, of sharing communion, rituals of breaking bread together around tables, rituals of regular giving of time, talent, treasure; rituals of daily reading of Scripture or other Wisdom texts. But of course it’s only a ritual if we do it regularly, when it becomes part of the flow our lives. Did you brush your teeth this morning because you thought, "Let’s see–what would I like to do this morning? Is this a tooth-brushing kind of day? Will brushing my teeth make me happy?" Or did you brush your teeth because you always brush your teeth when you get up, or after you eat, or before you go out of the house in the morning. It’s just something you do. And it actually does make you healthier (which in turn may make you happier). But it’s a ritual, something you do everyday, at certain triggers, at certain times, without a whole lot of internal debate. To be transformative, we must bring intention to our rituals.

So, positive psychology can reinforce our transformation efforts, our change efforts, by telling us what has been found to improve people’s sense of well-being, their experience of happiness. And may of these "interventions," so to speak, these relatively small changes in the way we live our lives, can make a huge difference in the way we experience our lives. I’ll be sharing some of these with you over the course of this year and beyond.

Positive Psychology focuses on 5 areas, with the acronym SHARP–Strengths, Health, Affect (or emotions), Relationships, and Purpose. It fits in nicely with the two Great Commandments Jesus spoke of: You shall love the Lord your God with all your Heart, Soul, Mind and Strength, you shall love your Neighbor as Yourself. Transformation begins with us.

 

So, for today, maybe you could jot down a few things you might do to increase your "positivity ratio"–the number of positive experiences compared to the negative experiences; some practice you might try daily for the next couple of weeks as an experiment. Maybe look for 5 things you’re grateful for and write them down each night. Maybe take 3 deep, full breaths before you get out of bed in the morning and thank God for the day. Maybe call or write a dear friend you haven’t spoken to for awhile. Maybe listen to some music that feeds your soul, and/or makes you want to dance–whether it’s Bach or Basie or the Beatles or Beyonce. And then dance–either around the room or just in your chair. Pick one or two practices. Try it daily for 2 weeks–that’s all it takes to begin to rewire the neural pathways.

"Beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." There is so much more to learn and share. Wisdom is calling us. Together, may we learn the unforced rhythms of grace and walk in the way of insight and transformation. I’m looking forward to taking this journey with you.

 

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

 
"Community Communication"-- Ephesians 4:25-5:2 --Aug. 12, 2012

"Community Communication"-- Ephesians 4:25-5:2 --Aug. 12, 2012

"Amazon.com currently lists over [75,000] religious titles that touch on the subject of anger." (Paul Marshall, cited [and updated] by Kate Huey, Weekly Seeds, 8/12/12) 75,000! That’s a lot of holy anger!

I know of–and you probably do too–too many faith communities torn apart by conflict and anger. It’s true of families as well, torn apart by emotional and/or physical anger and violence. Then there’s road rage and the more extreme forms of anger that get acted out in shootings and bombings like we’ve witnessed all too frequently in recent weeks. Anger can be a terrible, and terribly destructive, emotion.

"Be angry," Paul writes, "but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil." "Be angry," Paul says. Thank goodness he says that! Because, as Tal Ben-Shahar, the teacher of my Positive Psychology course says, the only people who don’t feel anger–or sadness, or envy, or any of the other emotions we might think of as "bad"–are either psychopaths or dead. "Be angry," Paul writes, "but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil." Don’t just let your anger fester, don’t deny it, and don’t compound its destructiveness by beating yourself up for feeling it; but deal with it. In the words of positive psychology, actively accept it-- allow yourself to be human, and then choose a course of action that will honor your humanity.

One way of thinking about that is lifting our anger up to the light of God, exposing it to that Light to be examined, instead of "making room for the devil," as Paul says, or allowing it to worm its way into misshapen forms that will inevitably come up to bite us. We know that, paradoxically, suppressing emotions only intensifies them. So, "be angry, but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil." Talk to someone appropriate about what is making you angry, journal about it, see if there’s something underneath it, like fear, write a letter about it that you don’t send–unless after sufficient time and cooling it feels right and helpful. When you can do it reasonably and lovingly, speak directly to the person (if it is a person) who has made you angry. "So then," as Paul writes, "putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; so not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil."

This instruction about anger comes when the writer of the letter to the Ephesians–either Paul or someone following in his steps– has just finished talking about setting aside the old self and putting on the new self in Christ. "So then," he says, getting very practical and specific, live together like this–speak the truth to each other in love, be angry but don’t let it cause you to sin; don’t steal but work honestly so that you’ll have enough to give away to others. Did you read the article in the Banner this week about the young people involved in the gardening project? The best part about it, one girl said, was being able to grow enough food so that they could give to others who were hungry. "Work honestly with [your] own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy."

"Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear." Do you know people who are always finding fault? Always chipping away at other people? Try to be a benefit finder (another term from Positive Psychology). You’d be amazed at how much better you’ll feel if you can make someone feel better about themselves, if you take the time to thank someone for something they did or said or are. You’ll feel better, not just them. As it turns out, our mothers were right–sending a thank you note really does make a difference, not just for Aunt Sally but for you too, even if you really can’t stand the fold-out sun hat she sent you for your graduation. Just the process of looking for something positive to say about it and expressing it to her is beneficial to you and her; "for we are members of one another," as Paul says.

"And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God," he goes on, "with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption." What a wonderful, poignant image that is–"do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God." I imagine that the Holy Spirit of God is grieved over this week’s shooting in the Sikh temple...and last week’s shooting in the Colorado movie theater. I think God’s Holy Spirit is grieved over car bombs and suicide bombs. Surely the Holy Spirit of God is grieved over our poisoning of the air and water, over habitats of wild and wondrous creatures being destroyed by our selfishness, over our warring madness. And closer to home, I’m sure I have grieved the Holy Spirit of God by closing myself off from certain people, by playing it too safe for Love’s intentions, by not loving myself enough or, sometimes, too much. "Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption"– which is, at least, today if not also some future time.

"Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you." Be kind. What a central, underrated trait kindness is! "Be kind," John Watson wrote, " for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." The late Irish poet and philosopher John O’Donohue, writes of kindness as being foundational–

There is a kindness that dwells deep down in things; it presides everywhere, often in the places we least expect. The world can be harsh and negative, but if we remain generous and patient, kindness inevitably reveals itself. Something deep in the human soul seems to depend on the presence of kindness; something instinctive in us expects it, and once we sense it we are able to trust and open ourselves...

The word

kindness has a gentle sound that seems to echo the presence of compassionate goodness. When someone is kind to you, you feel understood and seen. There is no judgment or harsh perception directed toward you. Kindness has gracious eyes; it is not small-minded or competitive; it wants nothing back for itself. Kindness strikes a resonance with the depths of your own heart; it also suggests that your vulnerability, though somehow exposed, is not taken advantage of; rather, it has become an occasion for dignity and empathy. Kindness casts a different light, an evening light that has the depth of color and patience to illuminate what is complex and rich in difference. To Bless the Space Between Us, pp. 185-6

And then finally, perhaps most impossibly, the writer urges, "Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." Be imitators of God?! Really? Isn’t that dangerous? Isn’t hubris the flaw of trying to act like you are God?

How can we measure up to "imitating God"? This is crazy-making talk for those of us with perfectionistic tendencies. But Paul elsewhere talks about "going on to perfection," striving on to perfection, which for him is "energizing, enabling him to press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus," as he writes in his letter to the Philippians. (3:14). "I may have fallen down this time," one preacher confesses, " but I’m goin’ on. I may not be perfect yet, but I’m goin’ on." (Janet Wolf)

"Be imitators of God, as beloved children–which we are–and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." We are "saved"–we become who we truly are, beloved children of God–not by effort but by grace, "not effortlessly but willingly," as one commentator writes (Joel E. Kok, cited in Huey, op cit.). By the grace of God, we already are beloved children of God. It is for us to freely claim that identity and live into it.

"So then," as Paul begins this passage, so then, if we are to let go of the old self and put on the new self in Christ, live together like each of you are Christ to each other. Go ahead, practice it. That’s what the church is for. Speak the truth to each other in love. Experience the full range of human emotions– anger, grief, joy, sorrow, jealousy, admiration, sympathy–be fully human as Jesus was human, but do not sin–do not let those emotions distort and separate you from God or one another. "Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you...and be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us..."

The amazing Olympic athletes we’ve been watching these past two weeks would be the first to tell you that, if you want to be like them, or even a tiny bit more like them than you are now, you have to practice, to train, to focus on that goal. It’s the same with wanting to be like Jesus, or, if you will, wanting to be your truest Self, heck–even wanting to be a little better–you have to practice. The great Catholic theologian Karl Rahner said that it’s better to say we’re becoming Christian than to say we are Christian. Being Christian–being a true follower of Christ, following Jesus’ Way-- is something we grow into. It’s a lifelong process, maybe even extending into the next life. We go on to perfection, to wholeness, to our true Self.

So, finally, here’s a prayer of confession – of truth-telling– about anger that might be a model for a prayer that could be helpful in lifting up our anger, or other hard, potentially destructive emotions, to the life-giving Light of God–

Almighty God, in your Word you instruct, ‘Be angry, but do not sin. Do not let the sun go down on your anger.’ We admit that we have fallen into sin on account of our anger, and we have held on to our rage far longer than a day. In anger we have said and done things which we are ashamed to name out loud, but that are all known to you. We have longed to strike back when we have been hurt. Rather than work through anger with the people involved, we have gossiped behind their backs. We have allowed unresolved anger to break up relationships, to undermine community cooperation and the unity among Christians.

Forgive us for what is past, and help us forgive others as we have been forgiven by you. Insofar as it depend on us, help us live in peace with all our neighbors. We pray in the name of your Son Jesus Christ, Amen. (Sourcebook of Worship Resources, vol 2,, p. 81)

And amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark
Noticing, and Being Grateful

Noticing, and Being Grateful

August 8, 2012--I am now over 3 weeks into my Positive Psychology course, through Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health. It’s a primarily on-line course, though next week will be one of the two week-long residencies at Kripalu in Lenox, MA (no blog posting next week). There are on-line lectures and reading assignments, along with reflection papers and online discussion groups. Already there have been lots and lots of "ah ha!" moments for me, lots of interesting new information, and lots of suggestions for practical ways to increase the positive in one’s life while reducing the effects of the negative.

One practice that has been transforming my week already is keeping a Gratitude journal. I know, I know, it sounds very "Oprah-esque," and Oprah does, apparently, keep a Gratitude journal herself, but it’s based on research on how we can actually re-wire our brains to focus more on the positive. Gratitude, it turns out, is the single most effective emotion for transforming one’s outlook.

 

Research showed that of a group divided into 4 –one group recorded 5 things they were grateful for each night, one group recorded 5 hassles they’d experienced that day, one group simply noted events, and the 4th was the control, not asked to record anything. After 6 months, the group who kept a gratitude journal were significantly more happy, more healthy, more successful by a number of objective and subjective standards.

SO, I invite you to join me in this practice, even for a week. I think you’ll find that, knowing you’ll need to write down at least 5 things (or people) that night, during the day you’ll be on the lookout–Oh, look at that beautiful play of sunlight and shadow on the lawn! Isn’t that a beautiful bird song? After an unexpected but wonderful conversation with a friend, I noted that I wanted to remember to write that friend’s name in my journal that night.

As our instructor, Tal Ben-Shahar says, you go from being not just a "benefit-finder" but a "benefit-seeker." What we focus on shapes the way we see–and experience–the world.

There will be lots more reflections on this course in the weeks and months to come. Bad things do happen to good people–to all kinds of people, for that matter–but there are ways of learning from and responding to those bad things that make the difference between being destroyed by them or growing from them. I hope this course will not only have beneficial effects on my life, but also on those with whom my life intersects.
"The Bread We Need"--John 6:24-35--Aug. 5, 2012

"The Bread We Need"--John 6:24-35--Aug. 5, 2012

 

It’s hard to find a straightforward, simple conversation with Jesus in the Gospel of John. Nicodemus tried that late one night and ended up talking about being born again or born from above and how do you do that when you’re a grown man? Or, the Samaritan woman at the well, who was shocked when Jesus asked her for a drink of water, out there in plain sight, in public, and he ended up talking about giving her living water, so that she would never be thirsty again.

And now here, in this morning’s reading, the crowd comes to Jesus because the day before he had just fed five thousand of them with five barley loaves and two fish. Jesus knows they’ve gone to great pains to find him–gotten in boats and crossed the Sea of Galilee– because they think they’re going to get another free lunch,–and who doesn’t want that?-- but he also knows that they’ll never really feel full, never be satisfied, with that bread. "Do not work for the food that perishes," he tells them, "but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God has set his seal." Understandably, genuinely, they ask him, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" and Jesus answers, "This is the work of God, that you believe in the one whom God has sent." They refer back to Moses, who gave them manna to eat in the wilderness, but Jesus reminds them it wasn’t Moses, but rather, God who gave them bread and is giving it right now. "Sir," they say, "give us this bread always," and Jesus says, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty."

These are not transcripts of tape recordings of the words coming out of Jesus’ mouth, but rather over half a century’s distillation and interpretation of teachings and experiences with the One who reveals so much of God that his face and his voice have become the very face and voice of God for John’s community. Who Jesus was and is for them is the very embodiment of the Wisdom that keeps the Chaos Monsters at bay; that gives them strength and hope in the midst of persecution and peril; that reassures them that even in the face of suffering and death, Love abides in and with and among them, able to bring life in abundance, even beyond death, deeply weaving them together and into the very fabric of creation.

Indeed, it could be said that John’s whole gospel is a discussion of who Jesus is and what it means to have faith in him. "I am the bread of life," Jesus says in John’s gospel, intentionally using that phrase "I am," which was the name God told Moses to use when referring to the One who sent him. "I am who I am." "I am light in the darkness," Jesus says elsewhere in John, "I am the gate to safe pasture, I am the good shepherd who sacrifices self for the sheep, I am the resurrection and the life who conquers death, I am the true vine, I am living water that quenches your deepest thirst, I am the bread of life that satisfies your deepest hunger." "Sir, give us this bread always," the crowd says. "Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water," the Samaritan woman says to Jesus at the well. Where can we find that bread and that water?

The people who came to Jesus looking for bread were no doubt hungry–the empty stomach, never having enough kind of hungry. There are children in Haiti and the Sudan and third-world parts of our own nation who cry themselves to sleep each night because they are hungry. They eat dirt to ease the pains, and then end up with more pain. "There are people in the world so hungry," Gandhi said, "that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread." We must not hear Jesus’ saying, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry" as a dismissal of our responsibility to feed the hungry, to work for systems that assure that all people have enough to eat. In fact, in the research to find out as much as we can about the historical Jesus, it is his insistence upon sharing table fellowship–real meals-- with everyone, his radical inclusion of all without regard to status or ability to contribute, that stands the test of time. It is what distinguished the early Christian communities from other groups–that they fed not only their own poor but the poor of the city. For Jesus, there was no split between spiritual hunger and physical hunger. "There are people in the world so hungry that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread."

But he knew how to feed all those hungers. We, too often, mis-identify our hunger and try to feed our hungers with all sorts of things that will always leave us wanting. Mother Teresa said, "There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than for bread." "Money, sex, war, fame and power are only a few ways that we try to fulfill the deepest desires of human nature," one commentator writes. Shopping, gaming, eating, drinking, drugging, and other addictions are other ways. Perhaps you have your own personal method for filling that ache in your soul.

The French mathematician Blaise Pascal wrote that our insatiable desires are like an abyss that must filled, but can only be filled by God. "There is a God-shaped hole in each one of us." Augustine famously wrote in his Confessions, "Thou has made us for Thyself; and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in Thee." "I am the bread of life," Jesus said. "Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty."

"Believing in" was and is not just an intellectual agreement, like "I believe that the earth is round," or "I believe in the force of gravity." It doesn’t matter whether you believe in gravity or not. It simply is, and you can live your life taking it into consideration or not. The only thing is, if you choose to jump off a building in defiance of gravity, you will no doubt simply prove its existence when you end up in a lifeless heap on the ground. "This is the work of God," Jesus said, "that you believe in the One whom God has sent."

"Believing in," or really "into," as the word implies, was more than intellectual in Jesus’ culture. It meant loyalty, commitment, solidarity. "Believe into me. Stick with me, no matter what." It was the social glue." (John Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus, Year A)

So what does that mean for us? "What must we do to perform the works of God?" What does it mean to "stick with Jesus?" Well, for one thing, Jesus would be quick to say that it is God who provides the bread and Jesus is the conduit. It is really "believing through" Jesus in God, if you will. It is really the work of God, that is, what God does, to "stick with us," to "believe into us." Regardless of what we do, God is for us. Believing that, like believing in gravity, allows us to align ourselves with that power, with that sustenance, with that healing, with that connection.

What we come to believe into through Jesus is that we are all connected, all inter-dependent, and all in relationship with God. When we live apart from that reality, that promise, nothing will satisfy us. When we live into that reality, "aware of our connections with God and one another, every meal is Eucharistic," as Bruce Epperly writes. "Connected with divine abundance, there is no need to horde; no need for injustice, manipulation, or marginalization. We experience the peace that comes from connecting our well-being with the well-being of others, not only our community but the whole universe. Nourished by divine bread, we become large-spirited, having the mind of Christ that embraces the body of Christ not only in the church but in the world–in all its wondrous variety." (Adventurous Lectionary, 8/5/12)

"I am the bread of life," Jesus said, with all the layers and nuances of what "bread" means for us. A religious community of sisters who live on a farm, producing food for themselves and others, wrote this affirmation of what they believe this means for them.--

The heart of our participation in the furtherance of the adventure of Life is food. We understand that we arise from and are held within the arms of a Eucharistic Universe; all energy exchange is costly–individual life is given, in part or in whole, in order for other individuals to sustain life for a time. This is a holy, sacrificial and sacramental exchange that we honor and celebrate, and which is clearly reflected in our Christian heritage. At the same time, eating is a joyful experience, suffused with thanksgiving and celebration. As we partake of the great banquet of food offered by Earth, we enjoy the delights of this bounty.

(Melrose Customary, cited by Suzanne Guthrie in Soulworkfor 8/5/12)

"This is the joyful feast of the people of God." We come remembering those who are hungry for bread to fill their stomachs. We come, perhaps more aware of what our hunger really is. We come, living out the reality that we are all part of one loaf, which is a gift of God. We come for the Bread we need, and pray that we might also become the bread God needs to feed all God’s children. Come, let us keep the feast.

 

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

 
Sunday, August 2nd

Sunday, August 2nd

 

 All are welcome to the Communion Table and to worship at Second Congregational Church, UCC this Sunday morning at 10 oclock.   Rev. Mary Lee-Clarks communion meditation is entitled, The Bread We Need, based on the readings from John and Ephesians.   Special music is offered by Deborah Perkins. Nursery care is provided during service. Fellowship and refreshment follow service in Webster Hall.

 

Second Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, welcomes all people of faith or in search of faith, without regard to age, race, sex, economic condition, disability, or sexual orientation. Our building is wheelchair-accessible, and hearing-assistance devices are available. For more information, call the church office at 442-2559 or explore this website further.

 

Second Congregational Church Designed by Templateism.com Copyright © 2014

Theme images by Bim. Powered by Blogger.